I Learned That From You
by Doxiesrcool
Summary: Angst, subtle romantic undertones, acceptance and understanding.


Rated: PG-13 Disclaimer: Andromeda is the property of Tribune. The author has only borrowed them.  
  
Set after "Dance of the Mayflies." No spoilers.  
  
This story originally appeared in the fanzine: Tales From the Slipstream by Chaos Unlimited. It is still available from them.  
  
I Learned That From You  
  
By Anna McLain  
  
**  
  
The music was soft, lilting, haunting...a gentle tune with a waltzing melody. He held her close, puzzled by the dampness of her tears soaking through his shirt at the shoulder. He opened his eyes and framed her face with his hands, searching her tear-drenched eyes. "What's this?" he asked tenderly. "Are you having regrets?"  
  
She shook her head and looked down. The music swelled around them, wrapping them in its crescendo. He peered into her face, curious. She stood on tiptoe and brought her lips close to his. He pulled back, shaking his head. "Rommie, you know they frown on that in this sector. We can't risk it now."  
  
She shoved him back without warning. The music ended.  
  
"No, no!" she snapped. "You don't understand." She gazed up at him, her eyes pleading with him to empathize. "I already told them to take me. I'm going crazy. You're driving me crazy." Her voice cracked on the last words.  
  
He shook his head fervently. "No, I don't understand. You belong to me...with me," he corrected quickly. "You can't just give up and surrender to the local bounty hunters due to the rules in this sector of space. We can leave."  
  
"I have to surrender."  
  
"I won't let you."  
  
"You're too late. They're outside. I've decided."  
  
His mouth fell slack. He stared, fighting to comprehend. "Enlighten me."  
  
"You should know. We've been together so long."  
  
He ground his teeth, baring them. His blue eyes sparked with sudden anger. "I don't. I don't know, Rommie. I'm not a mind reader," he stated.  
  
Sadness washed over her face then, her eyes rimmed with tears, unshed. After a long pause, she spoke softly, "I didn't know about love. I didn't know about loneliness. I didn't know it could hurt so much...until I met you."  
  
"That's not my fault," he said, bewildered. "I care about you, Rommie. You're like my right hand."  
  
She shook her head, blue-black locks glimmering in the distant carnival lights. This was supposed to be a simple shore leave. "Too late," she said hollowly. "I fell into a fairy tale. I made wishes like a fool that we could be together even though I knew it wasn't possible. But it's okay, Dylan, because I finally realized that dreams don't always come true no matter how desperately you want them to."  
  
"Life isn't a fairy tale."  
  
"But it is, in a way. If you give up on your dreams, what do you have left? What do I have left?"  
  
He stared but couldn't think of an answer. He had dreams of his own -- a new Commonwealth, love, a family. He couldn't bear to abandon them. He couldn't imagine what dreams an android might have.  
  
"I put my faith in you. You knew how I felt and you took advantage of it."  
  
"You're blaming me?" he said, incredulous. "We both gave in to the emotions, just that once."  
  
"You were blind," she blazed, suddenly furious at his denials.  
  
"So were you," he snapped. "We have protocols for a reason. You knew what would happen if you let your feelings for me take over."  
  
"Protocol is an excuse," she shot back, eyes flaming.  
  
"And so is blame," he retorted. "I admit it, I was weak. I had a weak moment and allowed my concern for you to come to a head. I shouldn't have allowed it to happen. I gave in to my loneliness."  
  
Her gaze was suddenly tortured. Her lower lip trembled. "You regret that you were with me? That you admitted you needed me?"  
  
He didn't respond. His blue eyes testified to his doubts.  
  
She snorted then chuckled mirthlessly. "I didn't know about love," she repeated, her voice tiny. "I didn't know about loneliness."  
  
Dylan scoffed, refusing to believe her. "What? After three hundred years you figured out all of that and how to fall out of love all by yourself?"  
  
"No," she whispered, her voice flat, final. "I learned that from you."  
  
"Rommie," he took a step toward her, at a loss for words.  
  
She stepped back, toward the door beyond which the bounty hunter waited for her. "I'll always miss you," she murmured.  
  
He stood there, certain she was bluffing. She wouldn't leave him. She wouldn't abandon the Andromeda, her sister. She couldn't walk out on the only life she'd ever known and surrender her life to bounty hunters who didn't believe that AI's should love or be loved by humans.  
  
She turned her back on him and walked away.  
  
He'd made a dreadful mistake. "Rommie!" he shouted frantically, panic spearing his heart.  
  
The bounty hunter locked cuffs on her wrists and led her away.  
  
~~  
  
Dylan awoke abruptly, shaken. The sheets from his bed bound his feet tightly, remnants of his tortured dream.  
  
"Shh, shh, Dylan," Rommie's voice said from nearby. He cast about wildly, gaze settling on her worried face. "You were dreaming. You must have been dreaming."  
  
"Rommie? What're...what're you doing in my quarters?" Dylan's voice was thick with sleep and hoarse for other reasons.  
  
She glanced down bashfully. "Well, I monitor the crew as you know. I detected a racing heartbeat, profuse sweating and...and when I came in you were...humming."  
  
He frowned, sitting up and rubbing his face. He couldn't bring himself to look at her just yet. "Humming? Humming what?"  
  
She raised her brows speculatively, gazing into herself to recall the tune. After a moment's pause, she began to hum a haunting, waltzing tune.  
  
He swallowed hard and peered up at her through his spiky lashes. "Ah. Yeah."  
  
"Is anything wrong?" she asked, dark eyes luminous with concern.  
  
He gave her a wistful, reassuring grin. "I think-there was," he said, admitting silently how little he comprehended of her actual feelings for him. He loved her, but how could it ever work? As an avatar, she wasn't the ship -- not really. She could be separate. She could love and be loved. He knew she was fragile. He knew how wrong things could go in ways he had never even considered. He knew he couldn't bear to see her hurt. He cared too much. "But now I understand."  
  
Finis.  
  
Hope you enjoyed this! If so, please send me feedback! Thanks!  
  
Anna McLain 


End file.
